


Cohabitation

by TheVulpineHero1



Category: One Hundred Percent Orange Juice, QP Shooting - Dangerous!! (Video Game)
Genre: Assisted Masturbation, Awkward, Budding Relationship, Comedy, F/F, Rimming, Slice of Life, Vaginal Fingering, college age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-19 22:54:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19981885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheVulpineHero1/pseuds/TheVulpineHero1
Summary: When QP and Syura go to college, their enduring friendship means sharing accommodation is an easy choice. But Syura finds the lack of private time getting to her. NSFW.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For ["John Smith"](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=%22John+Smith%22).



> This story came about from a friend giving me a prompt -- "A story about Syura being in her room late at night after a coding session and masturbating to some of the latest QP maid pictures she took and then getting walked in on by QP", with a target wordcount of 3k words. At the time I demurred, but I ended up doing it anyway out of curiosity, using a college age setting I already had made some notes on. It was also the first nsfw story I'd ever done.

Midnight. A waxing moon is already beginning to trickle down towards the horizon; the still of early morning reigns on campus. All is silent, but for the staccato of her typing. She breaks off, looks quizzically at a line of code, struggles to parse the language in her head. Takes a sip of iced tea. Resumes. The night continues; the sun is not yet here, and neither is her deadline. She breathes. Everything is going to be fine.

A few more lines, another pause. Her code seems to become opaque before her eyes. She takes a look at her project brief, realises with a sinking heart that she needs to delve into another textbook, search out another hidden snag in the code architecture. Nothing is ever simple. There’s no easy line from imagination to creation. There’s always a wall between the idea and its realisation, and she’s come to realise that sometimes she can overcome it, and sometimes she can’t. Becoming a person that can surmount that wall – who can surmount it at will, with confidence, with aplomb – is the next step in her journey to becoming a true game designer. A step as wide as an ocean. As far as the moon from the earth.

She settles back in her office chair, rolls her shoulders in the vain hope of shaking the ache from them. The chair creaks ominously as she does. It’s old, and worn, and just uncomfortable enough to keep her awake for a full night of debugging – a grizzled old veteran that she and QP found in a thrift shop and dragged back to the bedsit when they first moved in. She’d been ecstatic when QP suggested they look for a place together. Half the rent and food bills plus a friendly face to come home to after a day of study, and all for the low, low price of picking tail fur out of the shower plug every once in a while.

QP – snoring gently on the sofa – had found the transition to higher education much harder than Syura had, but had made the best of her incredible energy. No sooner had she puzzled through her first Sports Sciences lecture than she was out, stalking the shop windows of the town for a part time job. She’d found one at a family restaurant, one desperate for cute, hard-working girls who didn’t mind an evening shift. Even for QP, it was a handful; sometimes there was a stagger in her step as she opened the door, the subtle hint of an impending collapse. Tonight, Syura gathered, had been a bad night. Her daily dose of pudding was still sitting in the fridge, uneaten; she hadn’t even bothered to change out of the frilly, french-maid style waitress uniform before she flopped onto the sofa into a dead sleep.

She settles down at the computer, scrolls until she finds another block of her own sharp, clipped dev notes. QP has gotten used to the clacking of Syura’s keyboard, but other noises still woke her up easily; rummaging around in her storage boxes for the textbook she needed would definitely snap her out of slumberland. Syura had never known what a light sleeper she was before they started living together. It had always seemed natural to her that, when she had slept over as a kid, QP would always be awake earlier than her. She’d never considered that it was because some noise had roused her friend hours ago, and she’d been sitting quietly since to avoid waking anybody up.

There were a lot of things like that. A laundry list of daily revelations, of small and important things she never knew or even thought to ask, that she would have never known if they didn’t live together. QP couldn’t eat green peppers, preferred apple-scented dish soap. All her socks had holes in the heels because she went jogging in the evenings. She could spend almost an hour just fussing with the soft fur on the underside of her tail. The straightforward girl that Syura had always known was evolving in her mind to someone with more depth, more facets. QP was more than pudding now. It seemed almost magical.

Of course, cohabitation wasn’t always a beautiful and enlightening experience. It came with its own problems. Shower plug aside, space had become something of an issue. It was only a small bedsit – one room and an adjoining shower, and they’d had to fight for one with even that. They’d somehow managed to find space for a hotplate and a fridge, as well as Syura’s desktop computer, but two beds was out of the question; they’d have been leaping over them to get to the door. They’d had to settle for a sofa in lieu of any more comfortable sleeping arrangement, and their first real argument in years had been about who had to sleep on it. Eventually, they’d rolled a dice and that was that: QP was consigned to a sofa-dweller’s existence, and Syura had the bed to herself. She’d been delighted until QP began complaining about the soreness in her back, and then felt bad about it ever since.

There was also the question of privacy. In a place this small, there was almost no such thing as being alone. Syura’s programming lectures and library binging meant she wasn’t often home that long before QP was; she barely knew what it was like to be in the bedsit without her. In some ways it was comforting, but she was beginning to realise that as much as she loved QP and her company, being by herself was a luxury of its own. And what happened if one of them started dating? They’d have an unwilling eavesdropper to every lovey-dovey phone conversation, an awkward third wheel every time they met their crush at the door.

And once she had considered the question of dating, it had only been a matter of time before she considered the question of sex.

She hates to admit it, but it’s something that’s begun to fill her mind more and more as time goes on. She isn’t a clueless teenager anymore, blithely wondering about the aches in her chest and in her groin. She’s a woman, and she has needs. What she lacks is the time and space to fulfill them. At first, she’d thought she could just take some time in the shower to relieve her urges, but she’d quickly discovered that, no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t get there standing up. The angles were wrong for her fingers; the tension that built inside her was different, not as pleasant, as when she was on her back. Once she’d tried leaning against the shower wall, easing her fingers in at a shallower angle, and she’d gotten _so close_ before her feet started slipping on the wet floor and she’d be brought down. She’d been so frustrated she could cry, and left the shower feeling so snappish that even QP gave her a wide berth for the rest of the day.

She might have been able to cum like that if she’d had a toy – something longer and thicker than her slim, typist’s fingers – but she’d never gone as far as full penetration before, and even if she did, where would she hide her new “friend” from QP? Come to think of it, where would she even buy one? She didn’t have courage to go into a real-life sex shop by herself, and ordering online meant she’d have to receive her package – she can’t help but smile at the double entendre – with QP watching her. That was out of the question as well. She wished she’d thought to bring her old vibe with her when she left home. It was too loud so there was no way QP _wouldn’t_ hear it, but she had gotten used to using it so she’d at least have _one_ good orgasm before she had to face the music.

QP herself wasn’t exactly helping the problem. When they first moved in it was fine, but as the days rolled on, the dog-girl had become… unguarded, in ways that were difficult to resist. A week ago she had come home after a shift and asked for a back rub; she said that Syura, since she had such dextrous and nimble hands, ought to be good at them. Mollified, she had agreed, but she hadn’t been expecting QP to sit on the arm of the sofa and start unbuttoning her shirt, and she _definitely_ hadn’t expected her to be wearing no bra. Even with QP’s back to her, she had been able to see the curve of her breasts in the space between her arms, the soft, gradual arc. The dog-girl had barely grown in that department since they were at school, but the temptation was still very there, and very real. It would have been so easy to reach under QP’s arms and cup them. She could even have played it off as a joke. Maybe it would have been better to have done just that; as it was, the back rub was nervous and awkward, although QP still relaxed and leaned against her as she untangled the knots of her back. Since then, she had realised that QP went without a bra more often than not – in fact, almost always, unless she was going out jogging. She had perky nipples. It was something Syura was almost sure she shouldn’t know, and like all forbidden knowledge it was absolutely delicious.

Did QP know she was attracted to her? Did she even know she was attracted to girls? Syura couldn’t tell. It was an area in which QP still seemed as dense as the earth’s core, and content to remain that way. She would have to come out to her soon. She couldn’t just keep taking advantage of her friend’s carelessness like this. She turns in her chair to steal a look at the sleeping girl behind her, and, sure enough, there they are: perky and erect under her work uniform, almost begging to be touched. She groans, feels the ache begin inside her. Now she’s thought about it, her body is following suit. Her hand drifts to the waistband of her panties almost of her own accord.

She can’t do this here, she tells herself. Not with QP sleeping so close behind, so easy to wake up. But it’s been so _long,_ and it isn’t getting any easier. Maybe just a little. Calm herself down enough to go back to her coding. She hesitates, takes another long look over her shoulder – just to make sure QP is sound asleep. Sees those two dark, beautiful little points under the fabric of the dress again. Something deep inside her tightens. Her fingers slip into her panties, brush against folds that are already moist. She sinks down in her chair. She can’t help it. She needs this.

Slowly, gently, she begins to touch herself, letting her fingers almost drift across her slick labia, quivering when her fingertips touch the sensitive flesh. She breathes in with an exultant hiss as her palm brushes against her clit, just the ghost of a touch but it’s so good. This is what she needs, has needed. Not a fast, desperate attempt in the shower, but something slower, more indulgent. In high school she did it for what seemed like hours, working herself up to such a pitch that when she finally dipped her fingers to the entrance, her orgasm was already waiting, roaring within her, ready to spill out at the lightest touch of those inner walls. She doesn’t have that luxury tonight, she reminds herself. She can still hear the dog-girl breathing softly behind her. A little stimulus wouldn’t hurt. Attending to herself with her left hand, she uses the mouse in her right. A few quick clicks, a hidden folder. An old picture of QP pops up on the screen. The high school swimming competition. QP was a silver medallist, beaming on the podium – her swimsuit just a touch too tight, adhering to the soft contours of her crotch. Perky nipples, even then. Syura feels herself clench tightly, a spring winding inside her. She’s ready. She gives her clit one last, loving brush with her thumb before she slips her fingers into her pussy.

For a moment, she does nothing. Lets her body acclimate, tries to breath softly and regularly. When she begins to move, it is slow, seeking. It takes a little while for her to find the spots she knew so well when she was just a touch younger. But she does find them, and feels the pleasure bloom inside her when she does. The spring tightens. Little by little, she begins to draw her fingers in and out, slow and fast, an alternating rhythm. She lets her head loll back, concentrates on the sensations. Her eyes close; all she can hear is sound of her fingers moving, the wet –

“Syura?”

Her heart stops and her body freezes. Keeping her hand still is the hardest thing she’s ever done. Silently, she thanks whoever threw away this office chair, with its high back. QP can’t see her. Not like this, with her back arched, with her fingers slick with her own juices –

“You’re, um… masturbating. Right?”

No. No, no, no. No, no, no, no, no no no no no –

“Come on. You can say it. I’m part dog, y’know. I can smell when you’re horny.” She hears shuffling as QP climbs to her feet, three slow and deliberate steps. A hand falling on the back of her chair. “Oh. You were doing… uh. It, to me?”

She doesn’t look up. She can’t. Instead, she looks down. At the floor. At the spreading darkness on her panties. Anywhere but QP’s face.

“We, uh… Gotta talk about this in the morning.” That’s it. That’s the death sentence, the curtain call. Syura feels herself shrivelling up inside, a dead weight lodging itself in her chest. “But, uh… I mean. You… want a hand?”

“…What?” This time, she does look up. It’s difficult to tell from the glare of the computer screen, but she swears she can see a flush creeping across QP’s face.

“What does it sound like, idiot?!” the dog-girl barks, and now she’s definitely red. “Geez… You’re not the only one who’s been finding it hard, you know! I can smell when you’re horny, but Syura, you’re horny _all the time_. And it makes me feel it too! I actually went into the bathroom cubicle at work today and tried to do it, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t…” – her voice breaks off into a mumble – “…before my break was up. It’s been driving me crazy! We have to do something about this if we’re gonna keep living together.”

The world has officially ceased to make sense to her.

“A-anyway! I was… well, I was kinda waiting for you to tell how me you felt yourself, but…” She gestures to the picture on the monitor, looks down at Syura’s panties. “…I guess this is fine for tonight. So, here. Instead of doing it to that old picture, I’ll help you out a little.”

Without waiting for a response, she steps out to the side of the chair and demurely – almost like a real maid – lifts up her dress. No panties. For a moment, Syura takes in the neatly trimmed tuft of auburn hair, the soft and inviting curve of her cleft, before it’s all blown away by the sheer, animal scent of her, the smell of her desire. She stops thinking. Her body tightens in places she didn’t even know were there, and her fingers begin to move blindly, searching for a spot deep inside herself, pressing against it. She clenches, tighter and tighter, the spring inside her winding and winding. All at once, it releases. Her body quivers like it did the first time she ever came, as hard and exhausting an orgasm as she’s ever had. The energy rushes out of her.

“Uh… Wow. You feel better?” QP asks. She reaches out and cradles Syura’s head against her belly. The scent of her is still strong, almost overwhelming, but the afterglow is setting in quickly. So warm. So relaxing. She nods, rubbing her cheek against the fabric of QP’s dress. Like a cat rubbing up against its owner.

“Good. Um… I’ve got a day off from the restaurant tomorrow, so we could go out for a date in the afternoon if you like. … I might be a little grouchy in the morning, though. It, uh…” She lets the hem of her dress fall. “…kinda aches.”

“Your back?”

“…That too. Don’t stay up too late, alright?”

She retreats as quickly and suddenly as she came, awkwardly scurrying back to the sofa. For all her embarrassment, her tail is wagging as she goes. The updraft lifts the hem of her skirt just enough for Syura to get another glance of pale, creamy skin. She swallows, and feels something start to stir in her abdomen.

“Um, QP?” she asks, her voice timid in the half-light.

“…Yeah?”

“You think that… uh… You think if we got rid of the sofa, we could fit a double bed?”

Somewhere in the darkness, QP snorts.

“I’ll think about it tomorrow,” she says, “ _if_ I’m in a good mood.”

Syura smiles. Her mind flashes back to the shape, the colour, the smell. The ache, tiny and manageable now, sets in. She has an idea what would put QP in a good mood, all right.

It starts with a kiss. And it ends with one, too.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little while after the last chapter was written, I ended up doing a more comedic follow-up story. I just wanted to write something about two girlfriends goofing around in the bedroom, as well as get some more practice.

“They _jiggle_ ,” QP said, her eyes narrowed, in a voice that was halfway between amazement and accusation. She let Syura’s breast slip out of her hand, cupped it, rolled her thumb over the nipple. Like a child playing with a toy. It was, oddly, the most non-sexual way Syura had ever been groped. Well, it was nice, in its own way. Even if they hadn’t actually done much of anything, the new adult side of her relationship with QP was very… comfy. For given values of ‘adult’ and ‘comfort’. She didn’t know what she had _expected_ being straddled by a naked dog-girl to be like, but it probably wasn’t quite as relaxing as the real experience.

“Yeah. They do that if you’re not flat – ow! Quit it,” she said, wincing as QP scowled and gave one of her nipples a sharp flick. _Point taken_ , she thought to herself. _Don’t crack wise with somebody who’s got access to all your sensitive bits._ Her nipple tingled with the aftershocks – not unpleasantly. “I’m not saying being flat is bad, alright? Some people like that. I like it, at least.”

“That’s because you’re a pervert,” QP sniffed, although her ears looked a little more energetic. She cupped Syura’s breast again, squeezed just a little. Let her fingers sink in to the supple flesh. “It’s not like they’re good for anything, anyway.”

Syura felt her mouth curl into a smug grin. “To be honest, it’s just like having puddings on your chest, you know? They’re jiggly, they’re full of milk, and the nipple is like the caramel on top. Right?”

QP’s tail begin to wag fiercely, but her expression was as conflicted as Syura had ever seen it. There was a great battle being fought between QP’s morality and her sexuality, and it wasn’t quite clear which was winning.

“N-no! Don’t talk like that! I can’t mix _pudding_ and _sex_! Pudding is sacred! _Sacred!_ ” the dog-girl declared, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Really?” Syura asked, deliberately raising an eyebrow. She snaked her hands up to rest on QP’s hips, lingering for a long moment on her toned thighs. “When we first started going out, I thought for sure you were gonna ask to eat pudding off my chest. Like, the very first thing you’d ask for.”

QP’s tail stood bolt upright. A dreamy smile crept onto her face. “That… That’s a thing? That we could do?”

Syura almost laughed, but didn’t. Instead, she gave QP’s hips just the tiniest pull towards her. The dog girl took the hint, and dipped down so Syura could kiss her, long and slow. For a moment, it took up all of her brain; QP’s tongue moving against hers, exploring, dipping between her own lips. Such an enthusiastic kisser. Her thigh rose almost of its own accord until it met the soft, wet centre of QP’s hips. Gently, the dog-girl began to grind against her. It took her a long minute to remember what she had been talking about.

“Y-yeah. I mean, of course. You just have to warn me in advance, okay? So I can get showered and stuff. Otherwise it’s not hygienic,” she said, breaking off the kiss. “Just like… you know. Butt stuff. And you can only eat it off my boobs, not anywhere else. I don’t want to get dairy anywhere even close to my crotch.”

QP kissed her again, deeper this time; Syura could feel the hard nub of her clit rubbing against her thigh.

“Deal,” QP said, huskily, in between kisses. “Mm… Speaking of…” She came up for breath, and flicked her eyes away from Syura’s face. A blush was spreading to her cheeks. “Can you… uh… do that thing, again? I’m… you know. _Clean_.”

This time, Syura couldn’t stop the giggle from spilling out. “Snnrk. And you call _me_ a pervert.”

“I’m _not_ a pervert, okay?” she said fiercely. For a moment, Syura thought she was going to get another titty-flick, but instead QP turned around so her hips were above Syura’s face. It was a view she could get used to, and very swiftly was. “You’re the one who just started _doing_ it on the first date.”

“You’re the one who keeps asking for it.” She very slowly brought her hand up to QP’s waiting pussy, ran a finger between her lips. She felt her partner shiver as she did, saw the goosebumps spreading on her skin. Brought her finger back to her own lips, savoured the taste. There was something deeply satisfying about it, about being able to _do_ it, after so long spent dreaming of it.

“You just don’t get it,” QP replied, lowering her hips until she was all but sitting on Syura’s face. There was an unspoken accord between them, that QP went on top and Syura went on the bottom. That was how they liked it. That was how it was supposed to be. She could feel Syura’s warm breath against her, and grew more excited by the moment. “You don’t know what it’s like to… to have your butt sniffed.”

“Pretty sure I do.” She couldn’t see Syura’s grin, but she heard it in her voice.

“I mean in the _dog_ way,” she replied, irritably. “Sometimes you just want a little attention back th – _ohhhhhh_.”

Her annoyance, her sentence, and most of her brain seemed to melt away as Syura began her work, her tongue circling coyly around QP’s asshole. She felt one of Syura’s hands reach up to stroke the soft fur at the base of her tail, where it was most sensitive; the other crept around to her pussy. As the fingers pressed against her entrance, she felt herself opening for them, like a flower, drawing them up into her wetness. She moaned loudly, her ears flat against her skull, her tail trying to wag even as Syura stroked it. Her own hands found themselves at her modest breasts, pressing them together, squeezing, rolling her sensitive nipples between thumb and forefinger.

Slowly, little by little, Syura’s fingers began to sink deeper into her, stretching her, brushing up against her inner walls and seeking the sensitive places at her core, before slowly retreating to tease her clit, leaving her with a cruel and sudden emptiness. She felt her body clench down on them whenever they withdrew, desperate to keep them inside her where the pleasure was building. She was so tight that two fingers was all she could take, but she took them eagerly, rocking her hips gently in time with Syura’s movements to drive them further into herself.

The sensations at her hindquarters were a different kind of pleasure, slower, more indulgent, even cerebral. It was the pleasure of anticipation. While Syura’s teasing was enjoyable by itself, she knew that at some point she would feel the point of the redhead’s tongue resting against her back entrance, the gentle tug on her tail that had become a signal between them. There would be a moment of waiting, of adjustment, and then indescribable feeling of penetration. The fingers attending to her front would begin to pulse quickly, in and out, working harder and faster as Syura’s tongue swirled inside her, and then she would cum, because she always came, because her body just couldn’t resist being stimulated on both fronts at the same time. It would happen. It was only a matter of when, and every moment that passed just served to prime her body for it. As the seconds ticked by, the pleasure building up inside her seemed almost too much to bear.

“I’m close,” she hissed, pressing herself more firmly against Syura’s mouth. The response was immediate; instead of the slow, delicate intrusion, she felt Syura’s tongue slip forcefully inside her, lashing against the sides of her tight entrance before withdrawing just as quickly. She moaned, half in annoyance and half from the sudden burst of pleasure that had flooded her, rocked her hips ever more forcefully.

“Breathe deep for me,” she heard Syura say, and then felt something pressing at her asshole again. This time, it wasn’t warm and wet and soft, the feeling she had become accustomed to; it was harder, stronger. A fingertip. She whipped her head around, almost barked at Syura to stop playing around, but then it slipped inside her and killed the objection in her throat. Thinner and less muscular, but so much more friction than a tongue, so much more mobile. She felt herself tipping over the edge, her sex tightening, her back arching as she hit the climax. The world became very fuzzy as her legs went weak and she toppled onto the double bed. She felt like she might have been saying something, but it sounded like incoherent giggling.

Syura smiled her smug little smile, and gathered the quivering girl up into her arms. QP in the afterglow became a cuddly little puppy, warm and happy and content just to nuzzle against you for the next half an hour, wagging her tail between the bedsheets. It made one-sided petting sessions like this one more than worth it. She laid QP’s head across her breast, settled back against the pillows, and relaxed. After about five minutes had passed – about enough time for QP to regain her coherence, although not enough for her buzz to have warn off – she made her move.

“QP?” she asked, pressing her nose into her hair. “I wanted to ask you about something.”

The dog-girl’s voice was drowsy when she answered. “If it’s about the pudding you took from the fridge, it’s fine. I bought as much pudding as I wanted, plus one for you. That’s what relationships are all about.”

“It’s not that. Do you remember when you showed me that you could use pudding magic--”, she began, and she felt her tongue catch on the words because the idea that pudding magic was a _thing_ still seemed faintly ridiculous to her – “–to make a pair of wings? Could you, uh… use it to make other stuff?”

QP blinked slowly as she thought about the question. “Um, yeah. I can use it to make pudding, but it consumes pudding energy as well. It takes more than one pudding’s worth of energy to make a single pudding, so I can’t make infinite amounts. But it means that for every two puddings I eat, I can make an extra pudding whenever I want!”

“Well,” Syura said, coy and cautious, “I was more thinking… body parts. I bet wings are super complex, right?”

“Mm. You gotta do feathers and put bones in ’em and everything. I can do it because I’m _awesome_. Also we do a lot of biology in sports sciences, so that helps a lot. They used to just hover and not do anything, but now I can make them flap and even get some lift–”

Syura swallowed, and thought about bailing. But she’d come this far, and she had to ask about it sooner or later. “I thought so. So, in comparison, it wouldn’t be that hard to make, like… a dick?”

There followed a low grumble that, in other circumstances, might have been a growl. But with the endorphins still rushing through her body, it was currently the sound of QP trying to get annoyed and failing.

“Not you, too!” she moaned. “Everybody always says I’m like a guy, just because I’m slim, and _flat_ , and I wear a tracksuit instead of a skirt sometimes. But I’m not a guy, okay? I don’t _need_ a dick. I don’t want one.”

“Okay. I thought you might say that,” Syura replied, putting her hands up in supplication. She knew that even if QP was a cuddlebug right now, pressing her luck wasn’t wise. She moved to the next item on her agenda. “So, what about… well, y’know. Toys. Like, a strap-on. Would you be willing to wear that?”

For a moment, there was silence. QP’s eyes narrowed; her ears drooped, and her tail fell still. When she spoke, there was a timidity in her voice that seemed unnatural to her. “Syura… What’s wrong? Am I… not satisfying you?”

“No no no! That’s not it at all,” Syura said hurriedly.

“Then why are you so obsessed with _dick_?” QP asked, arching her eyebrows. The afterglow seemed to be wearing off.

“Well…” Syura began, and scratched her head. “I’ve never done full penetration before. But I think I want to try it. And I think… you’re the person I want to try it with. To give that to. You know?”

“That…” QP began, and then stopped, her mouth open in mid-thought. “That’s… _super_ not fair. You’re asking me to get a _dick_. An _actual_ dick. You’re not allowed to say cute stuff right afterwards. It’s not right.”

 _That_ , Syura thought, _was a critical hit._ “We don’t have to do anything now,” she said, soothingly. “I just wanted to talk to you about it. Since we’re girlfriends and all. Just… letting you know that it’s something I’m interested in.”

QP made a growl-not-growl again, and buried her face in Syura’s chest. She was definitely annoyed, and probably embarrassed. Maybe she’d pushed too far. Maybe it was too soon. But they’d known each other since they were kids, so how long would she have to wait? That’s what she had thought, but –

“…I’ll look into it, okay?! But if I _do_ get one, you’re going to _owe me_ ,” the dog-girl said fiercely, looking up at Syura. She got the feeling that ‘owing her’ was going to involve taking it in the ass. It would be worth it, she thought. Probably. “For now, go and brush your teeth. I wanna kiss, but your breath smells of butt.”

She sighed melodramatically, but obediently rolled out of bed, her long red ponytail swaying behind her. As she ran the tap, she heard the fridge open and shut again – no doubt QP was going for some post-coital pudding. All things considered, she thought it had gone well. She’d been worried about asking, but it looked like one way or another, she might be able to cross ‘doggy style with QP’ off her bucket list. Maybe even ‘futa QP’, if she was lucky. She closed her eyes and begin to imagine it, and felt a wetness begin to gather at her crotch. She wasn’t quite done enjoying the thought when she heard the bathroom door shut, and a hand gently caress her ass.

“Actually, when you’re done brushing your teeth, do you want to hop in the shower with me?” QP asked softly, her lips bare centimetres from Syura’s ears. She gave her breast a soft squeeze as she continued.

“You see, we’ve only got one pudding left in the fridge,” she said. “And I think I know _exactly_ what I want to do with it.”


End file.
